Obsolete Alice
by Xi-Chan PWNS
Summary: She was no Alice, not in his heart atleast...


Obsolete Alice

By Xi-Chan PWNS

* * *

He sat alone by the cold fire, the gust of misty ripe air blowing throughout the many window sills and creaks. His eyes remained calm though his lips seal a tight line upon his cheeks as he steadily rose and lowered the Earl Grey to his lips and back. The air seems filthy, meshed with deluded smog of cyanide and tingled his nose irritably. A long week of lesser redemption, an algid sense of nostalgia and lost ponderings had him dreary and Ill. He's wishing for something new.

Upon past interims and drowsy reveries, a lost but rather less esteemed soul has wondered into his sights. Late at night where the lights crossed and paths died back into the shadows, he found her awaiting a bereaved sense of security. Like the feeling of being vulnerable in such a deprived place drowned out the small confidence she held .She clung so desperately to her things, its wasn't all she had but she didn't want to throw it away for diverted larceny. She reminded him of his long past dreams. His tiny revelations and fantasies. The way her blond hair curl back into a long knot and peach skin shined within the dim lights. Yes she indeed reminded him.

Reminded him of Alice.

Dear me Dear me

How can this be?

Speaking of Alice, it's time to unravel her tonight. He took a gander at the ashen clock. Close to midnight and deeply starry this drab hour, a small but faintly seen smile crept upon his chapped fringe. Mind starting to swirl at the possible entertainment he'd received soon. The tick of the clock bouncing in smooth rhythm.

Tick

Tock

Tick

Tock

Hickory Dickory Doc. The mouse ran up the clock.

My word it's time already?

Ah Ha! Oh how wonderful! Frabjous! It's time time time.

No need to be Late late late.

"Alice", he sang soft. "Alice Come out, don't pout. Don't make me shout Alice, come out. Where are you?" he eyed the room observantly. More or less the room stayed quiet and peaceful. He'll call once more or so, but it stay the same no answer. No response. He frowns at this; the tiny silence is spilling and ruining his mood. Has she no manners? Oh how absolutely rude of her, why must she be so late.

The clock tick away, the minutes swayed and passed waiting. Of course out of first glances, she was no Alice. It appeared that in his eyes, she was of lesser cause, she showed amount of depressed aura and barely spoke words when he addressed her. Though she suited him very well, a pretty one whose dull eyes could tell stories of their adventures. Her horrific plunge into danger and demise. She had feelings he'd "end" her quickly and soon. This however, didn't distraught her. It was only a matter of time before he'd dispose of her and go in search of another...

The small taps of someone walking in awoke his senses and perked his ears. The grin returning and sudden gleefulness sprouting thorough his body. The footsteps came in hastily rushing beyond the kitchen stove and pass the boiling pot of tea. When they approached, that toothy grin could not uphold its joyfulness. The sight of her oh how it bless him to behold her. There it all her Frabjous glory...

Staring in beauty of his loved one, he smiled. She wore the complete storybook look, the one he had forcibly thrown upon her to wear from now on. The blue dress laced with tips of checkerboard frills, the small apron covered in the symbols of the diamond, spade, clover, and heart. Downward to the snow white stocking to her charcoal colored shoes. Her golden hair wrapped over the curve of her shoulders, standing in dim nightlight her skin glowed. For the moment, she was Alice, the wonderful beautiful Alice. And the moment he grinned dreamily, eyes watching her frame with ample interest.

In all honestly, she wishing this will end. The disgusting looks he's throw at her, made hard to believe there stood a line of pity for his demented state. Though she fell so easily for his trap, and now tumbled down a spiral of open madness to which she could not escape. He sets down his cup and motions a finger, begging her to come near. She stares blatantly aloof, almost ignoring his sudden gesture. Her legs start to kick in. she make a slow pace towards him, eyes slowed to lid in colored delusion. He smiles wide, hands anticipating the feel of her soft flesh and caressing her flushed cheeks between them. Oh Alice, Alice, Alice, Alice you wonderful thing you are…

She's just but an inch away, standing before him. Eyes blurred in obscurity and mouth caught in a tight line. She feels those "things prickling at her eyes again, threatening to open upon shattered wounds.

No not this time not again, not this time. Not this time…

He proceeds to cup her cheeks in his small hands, like a gleeful child receiving a wonderful present. The excitement in his eyes, he could hardly contain it. She simply watches as a small peck upon her lips awakens her inevitable horror.

There goes that prickling again, goddammit go away…

He stares thoughtlessly into the space between her. Her body shuddering at the subtle taste of his tea-flavored lips upon her again. For once, it seems she can't breathe and shuts her eyes away from the scene. There a sickly faint feeling in her gut, something unnerving and it's taking over fast. The world collapses around and her mind stops dead.

God no no no no nonononononono….

The prickling comes again and this time she's unprepared for it. They fall down her in a barrage of inexpression, smothering her lips in salty waterfalls. She can't stop them, it's too late anyway. The worlds look meek and blurry, unable to see, she cries harder this time. It hurts, a battering acid colliding down her waistline. Oh god does it hurt.

He stops to look up, eyes wide in disbelief of what he sees. Watching in confusion as she soils her face in tears, mouth open in a gritted rage and eyes bursting to stare madness into his own. He unable to comprehend what just happened. Why was his Alice crying? What was wrong?

Wait…

What's this?

Who

Who

Who

Who

Who

Who

Who are you?

Who am I?

Who are you?

Who…..

Who is she?

You...

You

Are

No

Alice?

Are you?

But you must?

…..

No….

You're not…

You're not her

You're not Alice…

YOU ARE NOT ALICE!

ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLIIIIIIIIIIII IIICCCCCCCCCCCCCCE

A frustrated rage pulls over him. His knuckles white, and in a flash, she's on the floor; crying out in pain. As he stabs her with a hidden tool he held within the coat of his pocket. An unsatisfactual rage consumes his being, taking all of her cries and pleas to stop. My god why won't he stop. A crunch of something broken and she's knows that's bone he's hit and true horror spills over.

…..

* * *

He sat solemnly sipping on the lukewarm tea made a couple of hours ago. To his surprise, his rage had washed over. The calm stillness of air felt heavy on his shoulders.

_From the incident involving the body found near the small pharmacy where he first found her, where she first found him, where all this delight and lunacy began, lying sadly upon the sidewalk edge. The owner had called screaming heavily through the phone about a young pale female he found mangled in a bloody mess of her own bloodily fluids across the entrance of the store and partly the parking lot. Police arriving shortly to found and discovered that she had been mutilated badly, an amount of 30 of more stabs wounds on every corner of her body. Eyes glazed over in eternal sadness, teary and soiled. She was dead an hour before anyone had found her she's been dead…_

Even if she looked of Alice, felt like her, and smelt like her, it wasn't her. There was no connection, no true feelings, it madden him. To which he ended her in hopes of forgetting her and moving on. He sat up and drank the rest of his tea; a tired look crosses his face as he gulped down the last drop. She was Alice, at least in his mind, but not in his heart. She felt real but he knew she wasn't. As much as he wanted to believe it, it was just another fantasy.

Her eyes as he drew her last breath, haunted him since, and he dared not look back on it after it. The clock struck five and morning drew near. Eventually they'd find out the mystery killer, and by then he'd be on the run, hoping to drive away those mixed feelings he had for his once perfect "Alice".

A toothy grin crosses his lips, a glitter in his eyes and the clock rung load in his ears drunkenly.

"_Poor, poor Alice you Naughty naughty girl"._


End file.
